


Lying

by jardindesetoiles



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 07:23:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jardindesetoiles/pseuds/jardindesetoiles
Summary: Alone in the dungeon, faced with a choice, Runaan dreams of escape.Or does he?





	Lying

**Author's Note:**

> One of my TDP fics, mostly written to satiate my own poor shipping heart... Aanaan for life.

How many nights had he been chained now, alone in the darkness? How many nights since he’d died, leaving his love in Xadia to bear his loss?  
  
How many days since they’d cruelly butchered his team, and left him so cruelly alive?  
  
Runaan could not know, for he neither counted nor cared. What mattered was the loss, the death.   
  
_His _death.  
  
It had been amusing enough to find the human disturbed by his lack of cooperation, and funnier still when he seemed to think he could succeed in finding a fate worse than death.  


And yet, he had. When Runaan had first laid eyes on the mirror, he’d scarcely wished to believe it. He’d read of this relic in books, heard of it through fleeting whispers and hushed voices, their tones beset always with reverence and fear. In that first moment, even the pain in his bound arm ceased, and the cold of the dungeon no longer stung his bare skin.

  
Upon being left alone with the mirror, and the monstrous threat of those coins, he tried to scream, but found himself silenced by pride. He could not break. In sleep, he dreamed vividly.  
  
_Runaan bathed in a hot spring beneath the light of a full moon. He’d been hunting for much of the day, and now his kills hung prepared beside his clothes upon a tree nearby. The moonshadow elf lay submerged to his neck, the heat of the water easing his sore muscles and loosing his tight ligaments._  
  
‘This must be ecstasy,’ he thought to himself.  
  
Too late, he realized he was not alone. The hands that grasped upon his shoulders were frigid, and broke his stupor. Wheeling round, he questioned who might dare try and catch him off-guard.  
  
A lithe man, or what Runaan believed to be a man, sat cross-legged before him, a playful smirk upon his features. And he was beautiful, the hunter realized, with speckled midnight skin and soft waves of glowing white hair. Runaan noted the shape of a star upon his chest, and resisted the urge to gasp. This creature before him should be relegated to myth.  
  
He chuckled softly, and spoke with a voice smooth as glass and deep as the sea. “My apologies, for I did not mean to frighten you,” the stranger began. “I wished only to ease your rest.”  
  


_Stricken dumb, Runaan could not reply, and only nodded in response. As if by instinct, he backed up, welcoming the stranger to move closer. The mystery elf obliged, shifting to the edge of the spring and slipping his calves into the water. The strange elf’s body seemed to radiate with its own inner heat, so Runaan maximized their contact, resting against the stranger with his head back against his knees. He seemed to better relax with each passing moment, and did finally sigh when those hands found his shoulders again. This time, they were warm._

_“Who are you?” He asked lazily, the heat and the massage making his brain sluggish in equal measure._  
  


_“My name would mean nothing to you,” the stranger replied silkily, tipping a cupped handful of water over Runaan’s hair. He’d set to work on the knotted strands. “Call me a friend.”_  
  
Runaan considered this for a moment, but lost any rationale when those fingertips began to massage his scalp. “Alright, -friend-,” he responded, “how is it that you come to be here?”  
  
Another laugh, as if the stars themselves laughed. “I cannot say, though I choose to believe I was drawn here, by you…” Runaan gazed up at the elf and saw a twinkle in his eye, then the elf winked.  
  
Blushing hotly despite the water, the hunter attempted to backtrack. Stumbling over his words, he became a mess of questions: why, how, who… stopped when the stranger turned Runaan to face him properly, and pressed a finger against his lips.  
  
“There, now,” he almost whispered, “enough of that.” Taking hold of the elf’s jaw, the dark stranger leaned forward and kissed him.  
  
Immediately, Runaan was lost. That kiss seemed to hold the promise of the very universe within, its magnitude leaving him speechless. He knew only that he needed more and, to that end, surged forward from the water to grasp at those crystalline waves and deepen the kiss, straddling the other’s lap as he did so.  
  
The stranger seemed amused and responded eagerly to this show of dominance, hands falling to Runaan’s waist to pull them flush, taking control back as easily as he’d relinquished it. Breaking the kiss, he fell upon Runaan’s ear, his jaw, his throat, peppering the dusky skin with little bites.  
  
“I know what it is you want,” the elf whispered, using one hand to squeeze Runaan’s buttock. “I can see into your mind, see what it is that you desire most… but you must tell me, how may I serve you?”  
  
The moonshadow elf felt close to tears with the strength of his desire, his heart pounding with the rush of blood through his heated limbs. He blushed to feel so vulnerable. “Lie with me,” he all but whimpered, his voice cracked with need and passion.  
  
A renewed assault upon his senses. Burning fingers tracing his skin and digging into the flesh of his ass, lips and teeth upon his throat, his shoulders, and another small laugh.  
  
“How, my dear hunter,” the elf whispered, “shall I lie with you? You must tell me.” A pinch upon one nipple and Runaan gasped in desire. In response to the question, he softly moaned.  
  
The strange elf smirked, his dark eyes mirthful. “No no, my wanton slut,” he whispered, squeezing again to make his point, “you must –tell me-. I will hear it from your lips or I shall leave you unfulfilled.”

_Dizzied, Runaan tried to remember how to make his lips move, how to form words, how to speak. “Take me, please,” he begged, almost tearful in his desperation. “Fill me, let me know you, let me belong to you…” He trailed off as the stranger’s expression mockingly softened._  
  
“There, was that so difficult?” He asked smoothly, tracing a finger over Runaan’s lips, down his neck, down his spine. In the fog of his passion, the hunter had barely noticed his own arousal, or that the stranger had seemingly been naked all this time. His eyes drank in the sight, traveling from the elf’s dark nipples down to the patch of starlight curls and the indescribable member nestled amongst them. It looked so unlike anything Runaan had ever seen, huge and dark and scattered with the same rush of stars as the rest of the man’s skin, he could not even be sure it was not some illusion conjured for his own benefit.  
  
Then the elf moved to breach him. At first, the hunter felt the familiar pressure against his entrance, the probe of two fingers. He moaned softly, his skin already sheened with sweat born of this intense desire, and gazed upon the stranger with half-lidded eyes. The stranger stared back and whispered some eldritch word, such that suddenly it was as though Runaan needed no preparation at all. Gasping, he tried to keep his breath as the dark elf grabbed him by the hips and guided him, aligning their bodies and sinking straight in. Runaan did scream this time, burying his face into the stranger’s neck.  
  
“More,” he begged, “please… please allow me more…” He traced his hands over the dark blue skin, wanting to memorize the feel of this body, this beautiful mysterious creature who deigned to grace him like this.  
  
“You shall have more,” the stranger murmured, rocking his hips to set a slow but forceful rhythm to their coupling, “but you must let me hear you.”  
  
Runaan obliged. Each gasp, each pant, each hitch of his breath, he gave to voice. When his voice cracked and fractured, the stranger kissed him deeply, swallowing those delicious moans into the depths of his dark mouth.  
  
Again and again over hours, or perhaps days, this sacred ritual endured. The pace changed, but the stranger never let Runaan find his satisfaction, even when his cock ached and throbbed and he thought he might die if he held off any longer. The stranger seemed never to tire.

_Finally, they could take no more. The hunter found his ending first, painting the space between them with hot, thick ropes of his seed, the ecstasy spending him for all his worth and then some, his voice gone ragged from his screams. The stranger followed, and Runaan could have cried at the feeling of white-hot spend within his body, as if he had consumed a star itself. He watched rapt as the stranger cried out his pleasure, his chest rising and falling with the shared beat of their hearts. They collapsed, boneless and sated, into the grass beneath them._  
  
Runaan stared at the stranger; the stranger stared back. He laid a kiss upon Runaan’s lips, and smirked.

_“It is time to wake up, Runaan, for he is waiting for you. He wants his answer, but you shall tell him nothing.”_

Runaan woke with a start, the pain shooting back into his arm as the chains that held him smashed against it. For a single moment, he recalled nothing of why this might be. It flooded back, and he shuddered, the dream having left him reeling. He regained composure quickly, though, and scoffed at his lack of discipline. Surely, it had just been a dream.  
  
Until he noticed the single word scratched into the wall beside the mirror, just out of the human mage’s sight.  


_Aaravos._


End file.
